


Love Thy Enemy

by LittleSammy



Category: Once a Thief (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-03
Updated: 2010-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-08 16:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSammy/pseuds/LittleSammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marriage with Li Ann is off, and Vic decides to drown his sorrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Thy Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine. Just played with them. Put 'em back unharmed, but relaxed.
> 
> Rating is NC-17, but a very mild one - I'm just not that graphic.

Victor Mansfield was getting drunk. Big time. Not the occasional rinsing of his sorrows down the plughole, but the carefully planned drowning of them like a bag of unwanted kittens. Nothing slow about it, just quick and effective. The way Victor usually worked.

He'd skipped the beer and gone straight to the tough stuff that was guaranteed to put him out completely in less than half an hour. Fifteen minutes into his time limit, he was making good progress.

It felt strange, though. Since Victor had never before tried getting completely - and deliberately - drunk, his mind seemed to take mental notes during the process, filing away the sensations - until further notice and for possible reference use in the future.

His hearing seemed to be the first thing to give. He heard neither Mac's approach nor his question. It was a question, right? He gave a mental shrug and decided that this was obviously one of the things excessive consumption of alcohol didn't change. He still didn't particularly care what Mac was babbling about.

Only a sharp intake of breath, followed by a cough, made its way into Victor's cotton padded mind, and he looked up to find the other man sitting beside him, holding in his hand what looked suspiciously like Victor's drink. His head dropped a few inches to check the facts. Yup. His drink indeed.

"Whoa!" Mac gasped, still choking after the mere sip he'd taken from Victor's glass. "I didn't know you could handle this stuff, Mr. Squeakin' Clean."

"I don't." Victor replied, pronouncing the words carefully and working hard to get his fuzzed brain into cooperating with his mouth, therefore letting the insult go. For the time being. "Thass exaggly why I... why I'm drinkin' it. An' now put my glass down an' lemme alone."

Uh-oh. Victor trying to get drunk? Then this was serious. Something must have hit him hard. Some*one*. And that, of course, left only one possibility. He started to just brush it away with a casual joke, but when he met Victor's sea green eyes, he couldn't.

"What did she tell you?" Macs voice was quiet, and for a split second a vague trace of concern showed on his face.

'Oh, you're gonna like this, annoying partner of mine...' - "Wedding's off."

"Really?" He couldn't help it. The news just made a wide grin spread on his face. Maybe some sort of reflex.

"Don't get your hopes up." Or anything else. "Doesn't want you, either. It's the general concept she objects to." Actually, the last sentence barely made it over Victor's lips and came out in a slurred parody of coherent speech, but Mac caught enough of it to get the meaning.

"Oh." She's dumped him. She's just fuckin' dumped him. "I'm sorry she dumped you." Mac winced at his own words. Very considerate, moron!

Not surprisingly, Victor rewarded him with just a short snort before he turned his attention back to his drink. "Yeah, right."

Mac groaned and ran a hand across his face to fight down the impulse that demanded he'd hit Victor immediately. This wasn't going very well.

 

*** *** ***

 

About an hour later Mac had managed to convince Victor to stop pouring alcohol into him, get him out of the club, into his car and back to his apartment. Right now he was busy leaning his drunk partner against the wall beside his apartment door, and he quickly discovered that he would need at least five hands to get everything done - two to open the door, and three to keep Victor from sliding down the wall.

"I really wonder why I'm doing this..." he muttered as he concentrated on the latter task. 'Wonder what Freud would have to say about this.'

Carefully he stepped back, afraid that the slightest touch might send Victor downhill again. As he turned towards the door, he quickly realized that he'd need the keys - and those were presumably still in one of Victor's pockets.

He considered picking the lock, but decided against it. He had the vague feeling this was something Victor wouldn't be inclined to ignore. A quick glance showed him that the other man had taken a relaxed pose, his head turned to the left, resting on his shoulder. His features were utterly relaxed, and it left him looking very young, and very vulnerable. Mac sighed and started to dig through Victor's pockets.

Nothing in his leather jacket. Damn. "I *really* hate this..." he muttered quietly. 'Li Ann, I'm going to get you for leaving me in this situation...' So now it was suddenly Li Ann's fault that he had chosen to take care of the mess she had left behind. Fancy that.

Of course Victor opened his eyes right when Mac had his hand in one of his jeans pockets, which left him suddenly staring into very green eyes that were irritatingly close. Several courses of action were considered and quickly discarded before he settled for an apologetic grin. "Now, don't get any ideas, Vic. I'm merely looking for your keys." As he was speaking, his fingers closed around said keys, and he pulled them out of Victor's pants triumphantly, dangling them in front of his face.

But Victor didn't react, just continued staring at him. "What did you do to her?" he asked, just when Mac was beginning to get nervous.

'Excuse me?' Definitely not what he had expected. Mac blinked, but managed to meet the green, green eyes for a few more moments before he turned back to the door. "*Nothing* happened." he finally answered while he turned the key in the lock.

"I don't buy that." Victor murmured, turning his head and watching him fumble with the lock. "She's with you for just a few days, and suddenly she doesn't want to marry me anymore. So what did you do to her?"

Mac, who had gone inside to switch on the lights, now turned back to Victor to help him, and the first blow caught him totally by surprise. "What did you *do* to her?!" Victor yelled, coming after him as Mac stumbled back, rubbing his jaw.

It was easy to avoid Victor's next punch - he was, after all, still drunk, and his coordination was still off. Mac brushed his fist aside, and after a few tries he managed to get a hold on Victor's arm and pull him against his chest, easily controlling the struggling man. And after a few seconds of fighting the near-embrace, he felt Victor go limp in his arms.

"Oh no, don't you *dare* pass out!" he muttered through gritted teeth while he tried to support the other man's weight. But even while he was talking, he felt the tremor that was running through Victor's body, felt his shoulders begin to shake, and unconsciously he tightened his grip. Damn.

He hadn't planned to still be here when Vic started breaking down. He didn't want to see this, no sir. And now he suddenly found himself with a trembling, shaking and very hurt man, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for Victor. 'What I did to her, you ask. And what did she do to you?' The sudden flash of anger towards Li Ann was gone as fast as it had crossed his mind, and he let it pass, not ready to think about what had caused it.

Taking a deep breath, he looked around until he located the bed, then he started moving Victor, carefully guiding and then lowering him onto the bed. The odd angle forced him to sit down with his burden, and when he'd finally managed to get his drunk partner safely down, he watched him curl up on the bed like he'd been hit hard.

His body was still shaking, and he was crying now, but very quietly, not the sobs Mac would have expected somehow. And strangely, this made his pain even more real.

"I'm sorry, Victor. I really am." he sighed, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hand moved to stroke Victor's head, like he would pat a crying child. One of those gestures that were supposed to make it better.

He was surprised when Victor moved into the touch, accepting the comfort unconsciously. All of a sudden Mac ended up with a hurt man curled up in his lap, clutching him tight. So tight he had to fight the reflex to jump off the bed to escape the unexpected touch. Damn. There went his easy way out.

"You know, I *really* think this is not the time to get buddy-buddy..." he said, his voice laced with just a hint of panic at the sudden close contact, but Victor didn't react. Sighing, Mac finally had to accept the situation and lowered his hands, stroking Victor's shoulders and back in a way that he hoped would be comforting. This wasn't good.

He wondered why Li Ann had chosen to tell Victor like that. Brutally honest. She knew him, damn. She'd known him for a while. She *had* to know how hard it would hit him, right? And why the hell did *he* care?

Mac took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Down, boy. 'I will *not* sympathize with Victor Mansfield. I will *not* sympathize with Victor Mansfield.' Yeah, right. Maybe he would start to believe it when he repeated it five hundred times.

He shook his head and stared down at Victor, who was still huddled in his lap, and suddenly he could understand what Li Ann had seen in him. The not always honest, but honorable man. One she could depend on. And for a moment Mac felt like smacking her.

He sighed. "Come on, let's get you out of this." he murmured, trying to unwrap Victor. A muttered protest made him grin. "Victor, just let me get you out of the leather jacket. I've slept like this before, and believe me, this is not an experience you would enjoy." More mumbled protests, but at least he let Mac have his way.

He managed to get Victor into an almost sitting position and pried the jacket off of him, then watched him closely. "You're better now?" - 'God, please say yes!' A slow nod, a deep breath. And the tears started flowing again, as silently as before. 'Oh, shit.'

He reached out, and somehow he ended up with Victor in his arms again, his hands stroking down the other's back in slow, slightly awkward motions. "It's okay, Victor. I know it hurts." I know it oh so well. "But you know what? It'll get better. Really, no kidding. I mean, look at me. I've lived through it, too..."

And as he said it he realized it was true. He'd gotten over Li Ann. 'I'm so far gone I'm even sitting here, holding another man in my arms and caring about him when we're supposed to be at each other's throats.' He might never admit it, and he might still pretend to chase his ex-lover at every opportunity, but something essential had changed considerably over the last few weeks.

His thoughts snapped back to reality as he felt Victor's wet face press into the curve of his neck. "Oh, that's okay, man." he grimaced. "Just cry into my shirt, it needed cleaning anyway."

A small laugh that brought the feeling of warm breath against his throat. "You're cute." Victor snickered.

"I take it that's 'cute' in an annoying way, right?" A small nod against his throat made him grin. 'That's better, baby.' Victor had come a little out of it, he'd gone back to reacting to what was happening around him. Maybe Mac wasn't such a mess after all when it came to comforting others. "I can't tell you how much this relieves me." he smiled, and his lips brushed Victor's forehead briefly as he gave him one last, reassuring hug.

As soon as he felt the other man tense in his arms, he realized the mistake he'd made. 'Oh. My. God. Did I just *kiss* him? *Victor*?!' He froze, body and mind alike. 'Why did I do this? Why the hell did I *do* this?'

Victor moved now, backing away very slowly until he could look into Macs eyes. "Uhm... Vic..." He cleared his throat as words failed him. He watched Victor closely, expecting to be knocked out any second, but the smooth face was strangely blank, no signs of anger showing, just a mild curiosity creasing his forehead as he scrutinized the man who was supposed to be his rival. "I think I better get go... umph!"

Mac's eyes widened in almost comical shock as Victor leaned forward and kissed him. He tried to back away, but he already felt the wall against his back and had no room to maneuver, and he was too surprised to even think about pushing Victor away. He wanted to protest, but the other's lips followed his movement easily. A tongue slipped between his lips, touching his own and eliciting another gasp of surprise. Drunk or not, Victor Mansfield was still one hell of a kisser.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Not good. *Not* good! This was *not* supposed to happen. Wasn't that even somewhere in the Ten Commandments? 'Thou shalt not enjoy kissing Victor Mansfield'...?

But he did, and that was his problem. It felt good, better than a lot of things lately, and he couldn't bring himself to break the contact. He watched Victor's face, those incredible eyes, now closed in intense concentration, and he didn't give a damn that Vic would probably kill him in the morning. He needed the affection, needed the comfort of closeness, of another human being caring about him so badly that he didn't seem to care that the other was Mac.

'Yeah, right. Do it for him. You're such a boyscout, Mac Ramsey.' He shivered as he began to return the kiss, unable to end it even if he would have wanted to. 'It's okay. It's okay. He'll stop, right? He'll stop as soon as his brain clears out a bit. He just needs some comfort, and he's going to accept it, and then he'll throw me out or throw up on me or something else to make us forget this ever happened... right?'

But he didn't stop, and soon Mac found himself lying on the bed, struggling for control, since Victor seemed very intent on getting his clothes off as quickly as possible.

The feeling of insisting fingers against his bare chest jerked Mac into awareness again. With a gasp he opened his eyes, and he grabbed Victor's hand, stilling the demanding little motions. "Vic. No." - 'You'll regret it. I know you will.'

But Victor shook his head, eyes still closed, and he moved forward until he could wrap his free hand around Mac's neck, bury his face into Mac's shoulder with a small sound. Then a whisper, asking a favor. "Stay. Please."

'Oh God.' - "Yes." - 'What are you doing to me, Victor?' Hands moved to unbutton shirts, sliding through short hair and down strong necks, exploring, starting hesitantly, but with growing enthusiasm. Bodies strained to touch each other, rhythm faltered slightly when pants were being pulled down. Little gasps and moans, intensity growing with each touch, each motion.

A growl rose deep in Victor's throat, and he rolled Mac on his back, moving above him and holding him down with the weight of his tense body. And when he kissed him again, it was hard and demanding, all traces of hesitation suddenly gone. Mac groaned, meeting the challenge and returning the kiss fiercely in something that was as much desire as it was a battle for control between them.

God, this was good. He moved against Victor, flipping them around again, and he felt him pick up the pace and answer it, and he was drowning in the feelings it created. His leg was buried deep between Victor's thighs, and he was so hot and hard, and it felt so damn good he wanted to scream. He felt Victor's face bury into his neck, felt his mouth close to his ear, hot breath on his skin. Groaning, he raised his head to look at Victor's face, and he found his features tight with passion, his brows drawn together, eyes tightly shut as he rode out the feelings.

Mac's lips drew back in a snarl. 'Look at me, Victor.' He lowered his head and took one of Vic's nipples between his teeth, delighting in the gasp it produced. 'Even if it's not me you really want, baby, open your eyes, and look at me, and acknowledge fucking *me*...'

But Victor just bit his lip, and arched his body into Mac's, and kept his eyes shut, and after a while Mac complied and moved faster. He knew he wasn't going to last much longer, but that wasn't the point of it.

Victor's body tensed suddenly, and his head fell back when Mac pressed his face against his throat, nibbling, biting, pulling him so close it nearly hurt. He groaned, his hard cock pressing against Victor's, and Victor's breath was so loud in his ears that he nearly missed his name flowing from the other's lips.

His head jerked up, and he stared into Victor's face, still tight, eyes still closed, but there was his name again, formed by those incredible lips. 'He knows. Oh shit, he knows it's me. He's known it all along.' Then he lost it, and his mind went blank, drowning in the haze of something that was as much lust and triumph as it was some deeper emotion, one he pushed away as quickly as he got lost in Victor's kisses.

 

*** *** ***

 

Sometime the next morning Mac realized with a start that he'd now spend at least an hour like this, watching Victor sleep and wondering what he was still doing here. Yes, he should get up and get dressed and get out of here because there were a hundred perfectly fine reasons why this course of action was much more healthy, one of them being Victor himself, who was very likely to beat him senseless when he woke and found him in his bed. So why was he still here, watching him sleep, curled up against Mac's side and one arm draped across his chest? He sighed.

As if on cue Victor stirred now, the muscles in his broad shoulders flexing as he turned his head. His stubbled cheek rubbed against Mac's skin as he settled into a more comfortable position, eyes still closed and body utterly relaxed. 'He's still here. Nice.' The thought floated through his mind and made his lips curve in a slight smile.

Then the real meaning of the sensations enveloping his body settled in, all of a sudden, like someone smacking him over the head. His eyes flew open, widening even further as he stared at the chest his head was resting on. Flat chest. Hairy. *Definitely* not a woman's chest. Which left only one option. God Almighty.

"What are *you* doing here?" His mouth seemed to be the only part of his body left working. He couldn't move, couldn't even blink, just lay there stunned. Watching Mac's chest move with the rhythm of his breathing.

'Oh, sure. Go ahead and live up to my expectations.' Mac closed his eyes, hiding behind his lids as well as the words he spoke. "Right now? Nothing, I guess."

"No, no, I mean - what are you *doing* here?"

He'd been right, he should have gone home hours ago. Fortunately his mouth worked as usual - much faster than his mind and coming up with a witty reply almost out of reflex. "Let's see... uhm... getting my shoulders cramped while I'm waiting for you to wake up?"

Thankfully Mac's display of amusement served the purpose of de-petrifying Victor, and he pushed himself up, slowly backing away to the other end of the bed while he carefully avoided meeting Mac's eyes. "Let me rephrase. What are you doing *here*?!"

"Oh, *that*. I thought that was obvious." Mac raised his arms and tucked them behind his head while he watched the other, showing a smug grin that was close to the ones he usually gave Victor.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Victor took a few deep breaths, but it didn't help much. His stomach turned and protested against the general concept and the mistreatment he'd given his body the previous night, and suddenly he found himself scrambling from the bed in a hurry. He barely reached the bathroom in time.

"Hey! Be careful, or I might take this *personal*...!" Mac yelled after the quickly retreating ex-cop, working hard on ignoring the tight feeling in his throat the words gave him. Estimating that he would have just a few minutes before Victor got his hangover under control, he got up and collected his clothes.

"No, man." he heard Victor's voice from the bathroom after almost excessive rinsing of his mouth, and Mac straightened, watching him come back. "*This* was purely physical." Victor coughed and ran a hand through his short hair. "If this were personal, I'd have ripped your lungs out by now..."

'So how did I know you'd say something like that...?' Mac shook his head, and the smile appeared easily on his face as everything slid back into the place it used to be before. Then he raised his eyes and looked at Victor, who stood there and watched him through long dark lashes.

"Aw, Victor. Don't feel bad about it." he teased as he wrapped an arm around the other man's still naked shoulder. 'At least he doesn't flinch.'

Victor turned his head to look at him, and his brows drew together in a small frown. "I still don't like you." he stated after a while.

"I know. But think about what this has given *me*." Mac smiled, showing just the usual lighthearted Mac exterior and nothing of the strange emotion he'd already begun to file away and bury somewhere dark and deep. Victor's frown deepened, as did the grin on Mac's lips. "*Excellent* blackmail material."

Somehow, he had to go for his clothing *really* fast after that.

 

\- the end -


End file.
